Prayers and Treasures
by LadyAlambiel
Summary: Prayers reveal one's treasures far more honestly than anything else.


Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: Prayers reveal one's treasures far more honestly than anything else.

A/N: This is part of my _A Light in the Darkness_ universe. Enjoy!

**Prayers and Treasures**

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Fear. That is what fills my heart as I beg the Great Lion to leave her here, to let it not be her time yet. My precious wife is so very ill that I count each breath she takes and give thanks when she takes one more. Her golden hair is dark from the fever sweat and her breathing is far more labored than I have ever wished to hear it. Our room is dark at the moment, in this last hour before the dawn, but I still keep watch over her, wishing there was some way to ease her pain.

She opens her eyes and I immediately take her hand. There was a time, only two months ago, when I would have simply pulled her into my arms and held her but now I fear that such an act would only cause her pain and I content myself with holding her hand. She smiles, it is only a pale reflection of her bright, infectious smile, but I am pleased to see it. "You look tired."

I press a kiss to her fingers, "I am well. Do not worry over me, my love."

She is too weak to protest and her breathing momentarily becomes more labored. I turn to the healers gathered in the room with us, but they are already doing everything they can. I beg Aslan once more to leave her here, while I watch Tuulea press a cool cloth against my wife's neck. A hint of worry creeps into her eyes as she whispers, "The baby?"

I press another kiss to her fingers, "The healers are doing everything they can and the babe will be here soon." We've been married for a little over nine years and I know all too well how it weighed on my wife that she'd never carried a child in that time and now as this mysterious fever stole her strength and vitality, our child is also in danger. The healers have already pulled me aside and warned that she will most likely be unable to have another child. I pray for my wife and for our child, but the fear that I will lose her, lose them both, weighs on me.

Her face contorts with pain and I can do naught but whisper empty comforts and hold her hand, wishing that she were strong enough to dig her nails into my hand. It does not take long for the healers to encourage her to push just once more. I listen for the babe's cries but I hear nothing. Stark fear is written across my wife's face as she attempts to sit up, to see the babe, but her arms buckle and I carefully lower her back to the pillows, brushing aside her sweat-darkened hair and murmuring that it will be well. Her breathing is too labored to be safe. I fear that if the news is poor, it will break my wife's heart and she will no longer seek to fight this illness. A small knot of the healers are hovering around the one holding our child, while others keep muttering about fetching more towels and stopping the bleeding as they tend to my wife. Great Lion, am I about to lose them both?

Then, finally, thank Aslan, I hear a small thin wail. My wife looks up at me and I press another kiss to her clammy forehead. The babe is alive. Tuulea is the one to bring the swaddled child to us. She lays the child on my wife's stomach and pulls back the blanket, allowing us to see this little one. The Nymph smiles, "It is a boy."

My wife weeps but she is smiling and I know the tears are from relief and joy. She is so weak and I believe our son is not much better but it is enough to see my wife holding him. I touch his tiny fist and he screws his face up, letting out a squeaky cry. My wife lets out a breathless laugh, "He's perfect."

I kiss her forehead again, "Like his mother."

She smiles at me, "Oh Lev, we have to name him." I nod, smiling, but she is unable to stay awake. The healers force me to leave but I am able to hold my tiny son in the interim. I still fear we will be left alone, without his mother, and that would leave Narnia in a bad state as well. Finally, I am called back to my wife's side. The healers are grim as they report that their fears are true, my wife will never bear another child. I care only that she will live.

Looking down at her sleeping visage, I thank Aslan that we are yet together and that she is alive, that our son is alive. Narnia's Queen still lives and now there is a Crown Prince. She wakes, frantic and crying and I comfort her as best I can, "Shh, love, shh, it is well. Our son is here, he is well. It is all right."

She stills, the tears still bright in her eyes. "He's alive? I did not dream it?"

I shake my head and slip into the nursery where a temporary wet nurse keeps watch over my son. Picking him up, I carry him back to his mother. My wife's wan face lights as I place him in her arms then sit on the edge of the bed to help her hold him. "There, see, he is here and he is well." I do not tell her what the healers have said about him being rather sickly and how we must be prepared for the worst. She does not need to hear such things.

She whispers wearily, "He needs a name. I want to call him Lew."

I nod and press a kiss to her hair, "Then so he shall be."

It takes another three months before my wife finally recovers from her illness and the birth of our son. The healers never learn what it was that nearly stole her life away. But she does recover and our son, Lew, grows stronger by the day. Now I watch them with pride as my wife plays with our seven-month-old son. He keeps trying to grab his mother's crown or chew on her golden hair. "Swanwhite."

She looks up as I call her name and she laughs as she rises from the bench and carries our son to me, "Lew, look it's your daddy." She kisses me then I take our son who squawks a protest at being separated from his mother. But then he settles down and happily drools on the shoulder of my tunic. I pull Swanwhite, my beloved wife, close and kiss her again. She laughs, "What are you thinking, Lev?"

I smile at her then jiggle our son, making him chortle in delight, before I find the words to say what is currently on my heart. "I am thinking that I am most thankful to Aslan for my answered prayers, which have become my greatest treasures."

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! I have no idea where this one came from, it just ambushed me this afternoon and held me hostage until I wrote it. Like it, hate it, befuddled by it? Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.**


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